


side quest

by vandalwithoutacause



Series: across the universe: a post-canon continuation [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Canon, Trauma, and they were ROOMMATES, in spaaaaaaace, just chock full of sci-fi tropes, they shoulda gone to therapy but they’re going to space instead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24400729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandalwithoutacause/pseuds/vandalwithoutacause
Summary: A post-canon continuation in which Catra and Adora explore the universe together. Featuring: every sci-fi trope I can think of, Perfuma the unlicensed Marriage and Family Counselor, the least romantic wedding in the universe, and Adora as the punch-your-feelings-out guy.Updating about once a week.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Series: across the universe: a post-canon continuation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786312
Comments: 65
Kudos: 391





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was loosely inspired by a single Noelle Stevenson tweet that just said "I think they'd both find space very peaceful" which made me think of COURSE they would, that's literally where they made their way back to each other. There's way too much baggage in Bright Moon. So I've decided to (attempt to) write something a bit more long form to explore how Catra and Adora heal their traumas by literally giving themselves the space to do so. And also they will get married like at least a dozen times.
> 
> In terms of continuity, I imagine this kicks off a few weeks after the last fic I wrote, which you can find [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326611/chapters/58651795) Be warned, it's got an E rating. I'm going to do my best to keep this fic PG-13, but I am admittedly not very good at that.
> 
> Special thanks to Immi and Rhi ([strangehunger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangehunger)) for the beta!

The first time it happens is pretty early on in their quest to spread magic like herpes across the whole stupid universe.

They’re on a relatively small planet only about half a day’s journey from Etheria, not even outside of the solar system. The planet’s heart isn’t anything to write home about, and the effort to unshackle it is frankly a little disappointing. After a week of not doing _anything_ (except Adora), and then a few weeks of doing _everything_ (except Adora), Catra had honestly been spoiling for a fight. But they arrive, and Darla very quickly triangulates the heart’s location, and they hike out to it, and then Adora does her little She-ra song and dance and it’s just… over.

The locals throw them a party. This will become a recurring theme in their quest to share the good news with the rest of the literally infinite universe. There is _always_ a party. There are _always_ drinks, and weird foods, and of course dancing, although Catra quite likes that last bit.

What she doesn’t like is that there’s also always someone who just doesn’t get that Adora is _taken._

“Hey, Catra!” She’s hovering over the canapes when Glimmer stumbles up to her, Bow hot on her heels, and bends over for a second to catch her breath. “You might wanna go rescue your girl.”

Alarmed, Catra spins on her heel to look in the direction Glimmer’s pointing. She rolls her eyes when she sees what she’s pointing at.

The suitor of the day is an admittedly quite handsome feline-variant hybrid, and that’s probably not helping the sudden rush of possessiveness that floods Catra from toe to tail-tip. They’re almost a whole head taller than Adora, covered entirely in shimmering silver fur, with obscenely long canines that jut out suggestively over their full lips. They’ve got gorgeous bright purple eyes, both the same color, and Catra _hates_ them on sight.

She should probably stop long enough to be intimidated but before Catra can think twice about it she’s already brushing up from behind Adora, rubbing her cheek roughly against her bare shoulder and wrapping her tail around her waist. Adora looks breathtaking in the glittery, off-white ball gown that she packed for some reason. She’s got her hair teased back into a half-up, half-down style that Catra will never get over and the pretty little red gemstone that Catra gave her for her last birthday hangs from a thin gold chain, nestled in the hollow of her beautiful throat.

“Hey, Adora,” she purrs, looking pointedly at the hybrid. They’re leaning against the wall next to her, a combination of casual and familiar that immediately raises Catra’s ruff. “Care to introduce me to your new friend?”

“Catra!” Adora shoots her a lazy smile and drapes an arm heavily over her shoulders, unintentionally smushing her shirt collar down onto her hackles and pulling her into her side. The effect is annoyingly soothing. “This is Squall. Squall, this is Catra.”

“Her girlfriend, Catra,” she corrects, and holds out a clawed hand for Squall. They take it gingerly between both of theirs, unsure what to do with it.

“Hello, Girlfriend Catra,” Squall says haltingly.

Catra takes her hand back and places it on Adora’s hip in a totally normal, not possessive way. There’s a little bit of a flush on Adora’s cheeks and she looks more relaxed than she’s been in weeks. Catra glances down at the empty glass in her hand. Ah. This should be fun.

Adora slurs out, “We were just talking about… hmm… What were we just talking about, Squall?”

The hybrid quirks an eyebrow and drawls out, amused, “I believe we were discussing how strong you are.” They tap a clawed finger lightly on Adora’s exposed bicep and Catra feels the quietest growl start to bubble up in the back of her throat. “You made freeing our magic look so easy.” They take a half-step closer, even though Catra is _literally right there_ and visibly choking on her own rage.

She hooks a finger into Adora’s thin belt and yanks her back behind her so that she is now standing between her beautiful, kind of drunk girlfriend and this also beautiful-but-in-an-obnoxious-way pickup artist. She grits out, “Do you not know what a girlfriend is, pal?” and points a claw threatening at one of their disgustingly pretty eyes.

Squall blinks a couple of times and steps back, raising a hand in supplication. They look with some concern at huge, snarling Melog, who has materialized suddenly at Catra’s side, bright red and vibrating. “I do not.”

Catra bristles. “It means she’s fucking _mine_ , and I’m not sharing.”

A wide grin splits Squall’s face and they back up even further. “Ahhh,” they sigh out. “That’s good to know. Thank you for telling me, I wouldn’t have guessed! Neither of you are wearing your pact braids.”

Adora tugs Catra back to her side. “Oh, we’re not actually at that stage yet. It’s suuuuuper interesting, Etheria has so many fun little customs around relationships.”

Catra relaxes now that Squall seems to have taken the hint and backed off, and Melog cools to a medium-purple and settles into a sit on one of her feet. Squall exclaims, “Oh, a cultural difference, how exciting!” and then Catra gets to lean into her girlfriend’s side and watch Adora animatedly explain all of the intricate Etherian mating rituals that Catra has pointedly ignored.

\-----

“Hey, Adora?”

Outside the ship Catra knows that the party rages on, but the sound is unable to penetrate Darla’s thick hull. She’s sat on their little bed in their huge bedroom, propped up against the wall that is currently serving as their headboard. The room is spartan, possessed only of their cot and a chest of drawers. Before leaving Etheria they installed a couple of shelves along the wall to act as bedside tables but there hadn’t been enough time to make too many more modifications. Honestly Catra’s just happy that Entrapta was able to set it up so the door would open for her and Adora, rather than only for Adora’s buff alter ego.

Cool light floods their immense and mostly empty bedroom so that there are almost no shadows. Catra adds “install a dimmer switch” to her to-do list.

Adora is cuddled up in Catra’s lap, half-asleep and already starting to drool. Catra pokes her lightly in the cheek and she snorts a little and stirs, looking up at her attacker. Before she can move to prop herself up Catra starts running her fingers through her hair, picking out the few remaining stays that helped keep it in place all night. She relaxes back into the gentle touch.

“Mm… you need something?” she slurs out against Catra’s thigh. 

She’s already starting to drift off again but this feels kind of important so Catra clears her throat and asks, “What’s, uh, what’s ‘marriage’?” She tastes the way the unfamiliar word sits on her tongue. It’s weird.

Adora rolls over so that the back of her head is nestled in Catra’s lap and reaches a sleepy hand up to tweak her ear. “Good to know you weren’t paying attention at all earlier,” she says with a soft smile.

Catra scowls. “You mean when you were flirting with that dumb, hot hybrid?” she snarks.

Adora gasps. “Wh-- Catra! Were you-- you were jealous!”

“Adoraaa…” she whines. “Just answer my damn question.”

“What was your question again?”

“Ugh, nevermind, I’ll just--”

“No no, I’m sorry, I’ll be serious.” Adora shifts up on the bed to sit beside her, takes and holds both of her hands, and sucks in a deep breath. “You see, Catra, when two people love each other very much--”

Catra takes back her hands and uses one to flick Adora on the nose. “You’re the worst,” she says, and then she smushes Adora’s face down onto the bed, flopping herself bonelessly on top of her. She bites her shoulder a little. “I _will_ find someone else to explain it to me, and I’ll make sure it’s the worst possible person, like Entrapta or Mermista.”

Horror twists Adora’s features and she moans out, “Oh jeez, no.” Genuine seriousness settles over her. Catra’s ears prick forward with interest. “Okay, fine, listen, marriage is… Well it always sounded really complicated to me but I guess it’s just a ceremony you can have with someone you love where you both promise to love each other forever--”

“Didn’t we kind of already do that in the Heart of Etheria?” Catra interrupts.

Adora gives her the absolute sappiest smile she’s ever received in her entire life. “Gosh, I love you so much,” she says, “but not quite. There’s a legal part too, and you need witnesses and paperwork to make it official.”

“Blegh,” says Catra.

They lapse into comfortable silence for a while, then Catra asks in a voice that only cracks the tiniest amount, “Is that… something that you want?”

Adora hums quietly and squeezes Catra tight to her chest. “Ask me again when I’m sober.”

Catra huffs out a sigh and snuggles deeper into Adora’s embrace. They fall asleep just like that, clothes and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am but a humble fic writer with a massive, fragile ego. Your comments cure my depression and water my crops.
> 
> Also find me on Tumblr at this writing blog I literally just started, if you want:  
> [Sappy Butch Romance Writer](https://sappybutchromancewriter.tumblr.com/)


	2. Adventure Awaits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throw on some 80's synthwave and make yourself comfortable, we're going world building.

Catra wakes up alone.

She does not panic.

It’s a near thing, though. There’s a crucial moment, a single jolting heartbeat, between when she opens her eyes and when she realizes her head is resting on a pillow rather than Adora’s shoulder. But then she hears Melog whine and they come up to snuffle against her hand. It’s just enough to anchor her in reality, helping her remember where she is. Her sleep-muted ears pick up the gentle hum unique to Darla and through the open bedroom door she can now hear Adora chattering over breakfast with Bow.

Melog hops up onto the bed, laying down with their head on her thigh. Catra lets out a long, slow exhale and syncs her breathing to the memory of some guided meditation Perfuma taught her before they left Etheria. Another slow breath in through her nose, and then out through her mouth. She does this a few more times until she feels her heartbeat stutter and settle back into its normal rhythm.

There are no windows in their bedroom so Catra sits up and calls out into the darkness, “Darla, lights on.” Cold, white light floods the entire room with shocking immediacy. She claps a hand over her eyes and falls back onto the bed, hissing. Melog makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like laughter.

Ugh. She  _ really  _ needs to see a nerd about a dimmer switch.

Once the stars are gone from her eyes, Catra rolls out of bed to set about her morning routine -- she has one of those now and it wasn’t even assigned to her, she came up with it herself. She brushes her teeth in the small en suite bathroom. She digs a clean, loose shirt and a pair of thick tights out of the chest at the foot of the bed, pulling them on. Then she walks into the center of the room and puts herself through a brief but thorough stretching routine, mixing in a few more of Perfuma’s breathing exercises, as Melog watches curiously.

Once she’s done she feels grounded, in a way. She feels… okay, in the confines of her own skin.

\-----

“Good morning, Catra!”

She grumbles a half-hearted response to Bow’s chipper greeting and bee-lines for Adora, who is sitting at the breakfast table with her friends and a half-empty bowl of something pale and bland looking. She nudges past Adora’s arm and clambers into her lap. It's too early in the day for personal space. Melog seems to agree, settling at Adora’s feet.

“Missed you this morning,” Catra purrs. For a few days after the end of the war Adora had managed to stay in bed long enough for Catra to wake up with her, but it wasn't long before she was back to her old habits. She had always been an early riser.

Adora gives her an apologetic smile and kisses her softly on the cheek, settling her displaced arm around her shoulders. Bow does a terrible job hiding his squeaky little “aw...” Catra doesn’t even attempt to hide her eyeroll.

“Do you want some breakfast?” Adora asks. “It was my turn to cook so it’s, uh, it’s pretty basic.” 

Catra sniffs at the bowl of gloop in front of Adora. “Hm. Maybe in a bit.”

Their makeshift dining room is just an alcove off the kitchen, a utilitarian little galley with a counter bolted to the wall and a handful of fixed stools. It sits at one end of the single, wide hallway that runs the length of the ship, connecting the central lift to the expansive bridge. Back down the hall towards the bridge are their bedrooms -- the massive Captain’s quarters, which Catra and Adora have claimed, and the smaller room that Catra stayed in once which has since been converted into a double bedroom for Bow and Glimmer. Across the hall from the galley is a much larger room. Like Darla’s other two decks and her cargo hold, it is currently empty.

Catra swivels an ear to focus on the sound of a door opening farther down the hallway. After a few seconds, Adora and Bow turn to watch Glimmer shamble into the galley, bleary-eyed and yawning.

“Good morning, guys,” she mumbles, slumping bonelessly onto one of the stools. She’s still wearing the short, glittery dress she had on at the party yesterday, looking very much like she slept in it.

Adora grins at her. “What time did you guys get back last night?”

Glimmer groans a little more. “Late,” she answers, shifting around on her stool in a futile attempt to get comfortable. “Breakfast?”

Adora gestures to what can only be described as a vat of beige slop sat on the counter. Glimmer grimaces but gamely dishes herself out a bowl all the same. She’s either brave or stupid.

Catra smirks at the look on her face when she takes her first bite. Stupid it is.

The four of them sit around the counter, idly chattering about nothing of any consequence and doing their best to eat without tasting. It makes for a nice morning.

\-----

Adora goes out to politic with the locals for a few minutes and then, with very little fanfare, they’re on the road again.

Before they left Etheria, Entrapta had helped them plot out a relatively short journey that would take them to the four planets in their galaxy she’d identified as most likely to be populated. The distance between these planets is incredible, and honestly a little bit horrifying. Even this brief test run is expected to take them several months -- months they will spend traveling through the infinite black of space just to find a handful of tiny, habitable dots drifting in a sea of nothingness.

Catra tries not to think about it.

Adora sits in her massive chair in the middle of the bridge, the only real chair on the entire ship, swiping her way through the holo pad she has propped up on her knee. Catra’s feeling needy today so she’s in Adora’s lap again, but Adora doesn’t seem to mind the hand at the back of her head and the fingers idly tugging a few strands of hair loose from her ponytail.

“Darla,” Adora calls, in the authoritative captain voice she’s still refining, and Catra suppresses the sudden urge to bite her on her stupid, beautiful neck. “Chart a course to E3, minimal risk for now.”

The planets on their to-do list don’t have names yet, just the numbers Entrapta assigned them. E1 is of course Etheria and E2 is the one they just left. It’s not a very imaginative naming scheme, but it gets the job done.

“Course charted,” Darla responds. “With this trajectory, arrival time is estimated at five standard days, sixteen standard hours, and eleven standard minutes.”

“Acknowledged. Engage.”

Darla’s engines ignite with a rumble that is more felt than heard and suddenly they’re rocketing off into space. Adventure awaits.

\-----

E3 is a complete shitshow -- thank  _ fuck, _ Catra had been about ready to scratch her own eyes out from boredom. It’s supposed to be just a little backwater planet in a little backwater system that  _ might  _ be habitable.

Oh it’s habitable, alright.

All four of them are running full-tilt, screaming their fool heads off, as behind them a truly massive crystalline worm cuts a path through the planet’s barren, rocky surface. Melog is doing their best to skip-jump them closer to the ship but their power is limited on this still-shackled planet. The worm is closing fast. It’s definitely bigger than Darla -- hell, it might be bigger than Horde Prime’s ship was.

“Darla,” Adora yells into the little transmitter she wears on her wrist, “power up the engines! We’re coming in hot!”

They’re almost back to the ship, and Catra can just see the lift lowering to the ground. She’s panting, her heaving breaths fogging her face shield. Beside her Glimmer looks about ready to keel over from the exertion. “Come on, Sparkles, stay with me!” she hollers, dropping back so that she’s ready to grab her if she falls out. “We’re almost there!”

“I hate running! And if this stupid planet wasn’t full of giant worms I wouldn’t have to!”

“Yeah, well, if a princess had wings maybe she wouldn’t be dragging ass the way you are -- move it!” She grabs Glimmer by the wrist and hauls her onto the platform just as Adora slaps the console to trigger the lift.

“Come on, come on…” Adora mutters. Catra takes her hand, nervously watching the crystal worm barreling towards them.

As soon as the lift doors open Adora and Bow take off like a shot down the hall. She’s still ripping off her helmet as Bow yells, “Darla, get us out of here!”

“Administrator not detected.”

“Damn it, Darla, do as he says!” Adora shouts.

“Acknowledged,” the ship responds. Her already warmed-up engines roar fully to life and Darla explodes away from the planet, sending all four of them sprawling out over the bridge.

Catra adds “fix Darla’s attitude” to the list of modifications she’s going to demand when they get back to Etheria.

Glimmer sits up, dazed. “Adora,” she says, “we have  _ got  _ to get some seats put in this thing.”

The four of them come together, laughing, and fall into an exhausted pile in the middle of the bridge. Catra maneuvers her head to rest on Adora’s stomach, then Melog flops down on top of her --  _ oof _ \-- so that she’s sandwiched between her girlfriend and the physical manifestation of her every emotion.

“That went well,” she snarks. “Next time maybe let’s listen to my suggestion to, I don’t know,  _ scout _ the planet first?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this  _ again _ but I agree with Catra,” Bow chimes in. “Jeez, we were almost worm food.”

Adora is still laughing quietly to herself, although it does peter off at the last of Bow’s words. “Yeah,” she says, “that’s… that’s fair. Recon for sure, next time.”

They lay there for a while as Darla hovers over this tiny planet floating all by itself in the infinite, uncaring void of space, just chock full of giant killer worms.

“Screw this planet.” It’s anyone’s guess which one of them says it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be just a fluffy romp through space but I spent most of today sketching out the ship and drawing up timelines... It's gonna be a whole thing.
> 
> Also -- TWO chapters in as many days? Who am I?
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr,](https://sappybutchromancewriter.tumblr.com/) where I may end up posting some of the BTS stuff.


	3. Communication Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Best Friends Squad is on the road again, now with 100% more ANGST. I'm going to try to warn for content and update the tags as needed, please let me know if I miss anything. For this chapter I'm warning for self-harm and some pretty serious depression and anxiety.

E4 is a bust too, which should probably be a relief after their spectacular failure to liberate the planet they’ve since named _Giant Worm Hell - Do NOT Engage_ , but their little group’s collective disappointment is palpable. It took two fucking weeks to get here (13 standard days, 21 standard hours, and 33 standard minutes -- fuck _off_ , Darla) and the ship’s scanners turn up… nothing.

“I can’t believe Entrapta was wrong,” says Bow as he stares, incredulous, into a cold expanse of space that doesn’t give a shit what he thinks.

“Psh, I can.”

“Catra, be nice,” Adora admonishes.

“What? Geek Princess isn’t even here--”

“Ughhh, come _on_ , there’s gotta be something here!” Glimmer interrupts, and she looks about ready to combust. “Why does space _suck so much?!_ ”

What a good question.

They touch down and have a look around anyway, mostly just to have something to do, but the recon proves accurate. The planet is empty, one more barren rock washed up on an endless, infinite beach of barren rocks--

Adora turns the ship around and locks in a course for the last planet on their list, and their final stop before they make their way back to Etheria. It's about another week and a half away.

\-----

Along the way Glimmer teaches Catra to cook. Or she tries to, anyway.

It goes like this:  
  
“Catra,” Glimmer says. She’s sitting on the floor of the bridge, because of course there’s still only one decent seat in this whole stupid ship, leaned up against Bow’s shoulder. Adora’s there too, but she’s in her fancy giant chair, reading something on her weird little datapad thing -- probably studying up on E5, again. Any day now she’s going to start insisting they call her Captain Adora.

“ _Catra--_ ”

“ _What?_ ” Catra snaps. She had been having a great time sitting in front of one of Darla’s massive forward windows, gently petting Melog and staring out at the infinite black void that kind of felt like it was trying to pull her in. But no. Apparently it’s time to pay attention to Queen Sparkles.

“It’s been your turn to cook for like the past week,” Glimmer says in a tone so bitchy that for the briefest moment Catra feels genuinely endeared to her.

“That’s because I can’t cook, _Sparkles_ ,” she fires back.

“Oh I’m aware.” At some point during this conversation Glimmer must have walked over because suddenly she’s resting a hand lightly on Catra’s shoulder. Melog, the traitor, does not react. “Come on, I’m sick of picking up your slack. I’ll teach you.”

This sounds like a terrible idea, so of course Catra is immediately into it.

A little while later, Bow and Adora poke their heads into the kitchen. It is _completely_ destroyed. There’s water splashed everywhere, there’s protein powder on the _ceiling_ , and Catra and Glimmer are flinging some kind of savory-smelling gelatin at each other. Glimmer does her best not to trip over the loudly purring Melog twining around her legs, and Catra is laughing with an especially rare carelessness.

Somehow they manage to make a passable dinner even though the pantry is only stocked with shit like “reconstituted poultry fragments in sodium chloride solution.” Still, it’s better than Fright Zone food.

\-----

The nightmares come less frequently in space, for some reason, but they still come. Most of the time Catra greets them with a relief that shivers through her entire body, eager for their brutal catharsis. She holds a few of them close to her heart, like old lovers: the bright, metallic smell of Adora’s blood heady in her nostrils as she rakes jagged and cracked claws through the skin of her back like so much fallow soil -- the mild taste of bright green liquid thick on the back of her tongue as she drowns in someone else’s hive mind -- an endless parade of everyone she’s ever known marching in lock-step away from her.

Catra picks at her scabbed-over mind until it bleeds and revels in the intoxicating throb that won’t stop screaming at her: _you are still alive_ and _you worthless bitch_ and _you still have so much work to do._

She snaps awake in the middle of the night -- probably, time is so close to meaningless anymore -- choking on a sob and tearing at their thin blanket with her claws. At the foot of their too-small bed Melog is dark red and growling quietly, but somehow still asleep.

“Mm… Catra?” Adora rolls over, reaches out to rest a sleepy hand on her hip. “You okay?”

She sits up, dropping her head into her hands and digging her nails -- _lightly_ \-- into the skin at her temples. She swallows against her dry throat. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Adora shuffles around for a moment and then, “Darla, lights.”

Catra yelps as Darla’s horrible, bright light floods their bedroom. “Mother-- _fuck_ you, Darla!” Groaning, she falls back onto the bed with her hands pressed over her eyes. Melog lets out a whiny grumble and burrows their head under their paws.

Darla says nothing.

When she opens her eyes, she finds Adora’s regard gentle on her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

What Catra wants to do is shrink away and pretend she doesn’t have emotions but for once she rolls over to face Adora, bleary-eyed in the harsh light of their shared bedroom. “Not really, but I probably should.”

“Do you want me to hold you while you do?” Adora offers.

“... Yes.”

“Come here.” Adora tugs her over by the hip so that she’s snuggled up the way she likes best, tight along Adora’s side with her cheek in the pillow of her thickly muscled shoulder and her head tucked under Adora’s chin. She feels safe here, and she doesn’t have to suffer the vulnerability of eye contact.

Still, “Can you turn the lights back off?”

“Sure. Darla, lights off.”

Darkness settles back over their bedroom like a heavy, cool blanket. They lay in silence for a few minutes. Adora sets a metered pace for Catra to match her breathing to. She brings her hand up to scratch gently between Catra’s ears, pushing her hair back out of her face.

Catra sighs. “It wasn’t even a real nightmare. It was just _Shadow Weaver_ with her stupid fucking ‘you’re welcome,’ letting me strangle her dumb ass to death.” She lays and waits for Adora’s judgement but all she gets is the gentle press of her fingers against her scalp. “I’m… still so mad at her, even though she’s dead.”

Adora sets her other hand to rubbing her back, soothing against her short fur. “Yeah,” she says, “me too.”

“What?” This isn’t the first time they’ve talked about Shadow Weaver. Back in Bright Moon, Adora held her in the darkest part of the night as she screamed, trembling under the weight of her own rage, tears carving down her face like hot knives. Hell, not even a week ago Melog had dragged Adora into their bedroom to find Catra, balled up in a corner, rocking quietly from side to side and tearing at her own fur, her chest winding tighter with each panicked breath.

Sometimes she has so little understanding of how she feels about Shadow Weaver that dismantling herself is all she can do.

But this -- Adora’s anger -- this is new.

Adora sighs out, “I mean, she basically raised us, and she did everything she could to keep us apart. She had to know how bad that hurt us... both of us.” Adora kisses her on the top of her head, a feather-light comfort. “She was horrible to you, and she was wrong about _everything._ So… I think it’s okay to still be mad.”

Catra’s eyes have adjusted to the dark enough that she can make out the soft outlines of Adora’s face as she stares, unfocused, up at the ceiling. “I… don’t understand. She died saving us. Aren’t we supposed to forgive her?”

Adora scoffs. “She probably would’ve loved that. I don’t know, maybe I’m just bitter because she kept me away from you for so long. But dying was basically the best thing she ever did.”

“No fucking kidding,” Catra sneers. She lays there for another minute or two, then she nuzzles into Adora’s shoulder. “Thanks… for listening, Adora.”

She can just barely see Adora’s lips curve up into a gentle smile. “Thanks for talking.”

\-----

Catra is bored.

They’re still about three days away from E5 and she ran out of stuff to do _weeks_ ago. As much as she loves a good nap, if she’s honest with herself she gets pretty snippy after about 14 hours of sleep a day. Melog has no such compunctions and is happily passed out at the foot of their bed.

So now she’s wandering the ship, looking for Adora, because she really has nothing better to do. She’s already been all over the main deck, and the weird loft room that overlooks the bridge, and now there’s nowhere to go but down.

She finds Adora on the deck below their living quarters. It’s mostly empty except for a few nondescript boxes that she’s hauling from one side of the expansive room to the other for some reason.

Catra pads, soundless, into the room. Adora doesn’t seem to notice her. For a few moments Catra just stands there, listening to her grunt under the strain of the heavy metal chest she’s struggling to stack against the far wall, watching the play of her shoulder muscles under her thin shirt. Adora looks paler, in the cold light of this empty room. She looks--

“You look tired,” her mouth says without her permission.

Adora glances up from her pointless task. “Oh, hey Catra. No no, I’m fine,” she reassures.

Catra closes the distance between them with deliberate grace, and doesn’t miss the way Adora’s eyes drop to follow the gentle sway of her hips. Adora straightens in front of her, arms crossed. “Don’t bullshit me, you can’t have slept more than four hours a night since we left the Giant Worm hellhole.” She runs a claw along Adora’s jawline to lightly flick at the point of her chin.

Adora jerks her head back. “I’m _fine._ ”

“Ooo, grumpy Adora. My favorite,” Catra purrs. She takes a single, carefully measured step closer, sliding her foot behind Adora’s. “You wanna fight about it?” 

“What?”

Catra shoves her back, just hard enough to upset her posture and send her stumbling over her foot. When Adora looks back up, Catra’s got her fists balled up in front of her face. “Come on, Adora. I know you want it.”

Adora has fallen instinctively into a more balanced stance, knees bent and hands held out to ward off attack. She looks just a little pissed off. She looks like she could take a hit. She looks fucking _hot._

Catra grins, all teeth, and throws herself bodily at her.

“Adora? Are you down here?” Catra has just tackled Adora back onto the floor, landing with her legs a tight bracket around Adora’s waist and her claws fisted in the collar of her shirt, when Bow steps out of the lift. He immediately claps a hand over his eyes -- this is not the first time he’s walked in at a bad time.

Adora leaps on the distraction, thrusting an arm up past Catra’s face and using it to lever her off balance. She grabs her around the back of her hips and bears Catra down under the weight of her body so that her face is pressed to the floor. “Did you need something, Bow?” Catra twists around and bites her on the back of the thigh, through her pants. “ _Fuck_ , Catra,” she groans, and her tone isn’t even a little pained.

Bow backtracks the way he came, blindly. “Nope, nevermind, it can wait.” The lift doors can’t close fast enough.

Catra yells after him, “Tell Sparkles not to come down either! For at least an hour!”

Definitely more than an hour later, they’re sprawled out on the floor together, a mess of sweaty limbs and heaving breaths, their shredded clothing thrown out in a broad arc around them. Catra is draped over Adora’s chest, which is probably her favorite place to be in the whole universe, and Adora is absentmindedly stroking her fingers through her short hair.

Into the warm silence Adora says, “Thanks, Catra. I needed that.”

Catra bites her shoulder, gently. “Anytime,” she replies. Adora sleeps well that night.

\-----

Three days later they’re all gathered on the bridge, staring out the forward window at a medium-sized planet that looks like it might actually support life. There’s still nowhere to sit.

“Initiating final approach to the planet designated E5,” Darla announces. “Communications frequency detected.” 

“Uh. What? Bow-- _what does that mean?_ ” Adora looks so cute when she’s panicking.

“ _I_ don’t know, open communications and find out!”

“Administrator not detected.”

“Shut _up_ , Darla!” Even Bow is getting sick of her shit. “Adora, tell her to open the channel.”

Adora straightens. She’s sitting in her stupid chair again, looking well-rested and more like a proper ship’s captain every day. Inside of Catra there are two tigers, pacing: one of them is disgusted by how hot Adora looks right now, and the other one is just turned on.

Adora says, “Darla, open the channel.” _Ugh._

Garbled static blasts out over the bridge. Catra winces, flattening her ears to her head. Darla takes her sweet time tuning to the frequency and then a voice comes over the comms, sharp and terse, “Unidentified spacecraft, state your business.”

“Uhhh…”

“Adora, _say something_.” Glimmer stomps up and smacks her on the head. Catra couldn’t bristle harder.

Adora takes a deep breath. “This is… Captain Adora,” _there_ it is, “of the, uh, the Darla. We’re here on a diplomatic mission from the planet Etheria. Um… Who am I speaking to?”

“This is Ground Sergeant Talaran of the Exalted Venatar Republic.”

“Nice to meet you, Sergeant. Uh, requesting permission to land?”

“Please hold.” The line cuts out, replaced by a horrible, rhythmic screeching sound that makes Catra want to tear the fur off of her arms and stuff it into her own ears.

Adora winces. “Darla, quarter volume.” The screeching quiets to a level that Catra can almost ignore, and they all stand around awkwardly. Bow starts humming along with it -- is this supposed to be _music_?

After a little while the Sergeant’s voice comes back over the line, low and unintelligible.

“What was that? Darla, full volume.”

“I _said_ , you need to speak to my commanding officer.”

And then a new voice comes over the line, “Captain Adora of the Darla, what is your business in Venatarian territory?”

“I already told you, we’re here on diplomatic business from Etheria. I’m escorting Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon. Can we land or not?”

“Hold,” and suddenly the screeching noise is back at full volume.

“Are you _kidding_ me -- screw this -- Darla, take us in.”

\-----

They land on Venatar with _considerable_ fanfare. Captain It's-Better-To-Ask-Forgiveness Adora has managed to single-handedly piss off an entire planet full of what appear to be grey-skinned, horny, Horde wannabes with an insatiable appetite for _paperwork_.

Adora pays her penance locked up in an administrative office for the better part of a day, bowing and scraping to the worst kind of bureaucracy Catra has ever witnessed in her whole life. Once the ship’s records are in order she spends the rest of the day climbing, arm-over-arm, up what must be the most insufferably complicated chain-of-command in this galaxy, until finally she has wrangled an audience with the Supreme Chancellor, who had fucking _better_ be the guy in charge.

About half a dozen lightly-armed Venatarians -- goblins, Catra learned from their escort on the way in -- have ushered the four of them into a drab little antechamber just inside a surprisingly modest… it's not quite a castle… fort? Before them is a desk, and behind that desk sits a simply attired goblin who looks like he’s never had a good day in his life.

Adora dips into a low bow before the Supreme Chancellor and Catra is amused to note that it’s the same one from the Princess Ball two years ago. She follows suit just a beat behind Bow and Glimmer.

One of the guard’s spends what feels like ten whole minutes announcing their arrival. “Supreme Chancellor Creeta, presenting the diplomatic envoy from planet Etheria: Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon, Chief Engineer Bow also of Bright Moon, Captain Adora of the Darla, and Brigadier Quartermaster Catra, no affiliation recorded. Accompanied by Melog, formerly of Krytis, now of Etheria.”

It takes every last remaining ounce of Catra’s resolve not to roll her eyes at the ridiculous title Adora made up for her.

The Supreme Chancellor rises to greet them, returning a perfect copy of the bow Adora gave him. Then they spend the next _six hours_ trying to convince him to let them unshackle the planet’s heart.

\-----

It takes Adora transforming literally in front of them to convince the goblins to let them take a crack at the heart, and even then they insist on going outside of the fort to work through a complete demonstration of each and every one of Adora’s abilities. They take copious notes.

At the end of a very long day, the _diplomatic envoy from Etheria_ \-- Bow’s kidding himself if he thinks they’re going to run around the galaxy introducing themselves as the Best Friends Squad -- returns to the ship to pass out, exhausted, in their respective beds. They have work to do tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had space worms in the last chapter and now bureaucratic aliens in this one. Also everyone speaks the same language for some reason! Tell me about your favorite sci-fi tropes in the comments.
> 
> Last but not least: find me on [Tumblr,](https://sappybutchromancewriter.tumblr.com/) where I will be posting some of the BTS stuff.


	4. Tax Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Catra teaches Glimmer a new word, the Best Friends Squad goes to Tiny Target, and Catra and Adora get married for tax purposes.

The Supreme Chancellor’s modest little fort sits at the mouth of a much larger city -- from orbit it had looked like a good amount of the planet was covered in similarly labyrinthine urban developments. The goblins are clearly a very organized people, which Catra simultaneously appreciates and absolutely abhors. Their cities and towns (or at least this city) very pointedly do _not_ sprawl. They are painstakingly ordered, planned networks of streets and buildings. To preserve as much of the planet’s remaining agricultural capability as possible, most of the buildings soar up and up and _up_ into the sky, so that their tops disappear into the low fog that hangs over the city. They look much younger than the fort, their cold, blue-gray plasteel contrasting starkly with its rough, unyielding stonework.

A couple of lightly armed goblins guide them away from the fort and through the farmland that surrounds it. This part of Venatar appears to be dedicated to some kind of grain Catra hasn’t seen before, and she makes a mental note to try to get a sample to bring back to Perfuma.

Their group loads into a small skiff -- the goblins call it an autonomous carriage, but it hovers and it's fast and it sure does look like a skiff to Catra -- and they zip away from the fort and the city. Looking back, Catra can just see a couple of intensely glowing signs that peek out around the sides of the fort.

She backhands Glimmer, sat next to her on the weird carriage thing, lightly on the shoulder. “Sparkles, look,” she says, “I bet they sell furniture here.”

Glimmer gasps.

\-----

No one told the goblins that they’re here to destroy the Heart of Venatar -- it's such a strong word, _destroy_ , and for that matter so is _Heart_. They’re really going to have to find a better way to explain the process. For now the white lie gets them out of the bureaucratic mire and one step closer to checking this weird ass planet off their list.

Their skiff-carriage comes to a stop at the opening of a mineshaft built into the side of a landfill that appears to be made entirely out of.... Catra sighs. Of fucking course the Heart is buried under a literal mountain of paperwork.

They enter the mineshaft. They get into some kind of oversized mine cart thing. They descend into the trash heap.

About halfway down Catra whaps Adora on the chest. “You might wanna transform, dummy.”

“Oh, right -- _for the honor of grayskull!_ ” It seems like her bizarre password probably shouldn’t be necessary anymore, but Adora has always had a bit of a flair for the dramatic. She floods the entire mineshaft with her light as the transformation takes her. Catra sighs again. She’s never going to get over how Adora looks with double her normal muscle mass and fully two feet taller -- and she is so clearly _Adora_ ever since she destroyed the sword.

The minecart lets out an ominous little protesting creak, struggling under the sudden increase in weight. Their goblin escort looks visibly upset; the paperwork required to commission a new minecart must be even worse than Catra suspected.

Glimmer yawns, Bow scratches an itch on his face, and they all stand around as the cart rolls further down the mineshaft. After a long, awkward silence broken only by the sounds of squeaking wheels and groaning hinges, the cart comes to a stop at the mouth of a _very_ unnatural-looking cavern.

Adora’s chest lights up like the sun as soon as they set foot into the chamber. Catra knows the failsafe is permanently scarified onto her skin beneath her shirt, and now the design blazes so that it’s actually pretty hard to look at -- this usually doesn’t happen until she’s close enough to the Heart to start taking it apart.

“Something’s wrong.” Adora steps out in front of their little group, because she can’t not be the first one to put herself in danger, even once. She waves the guards back, “You guys should stay behind me. The Heart isn’t even in here--”

“Then why are you already _glowing?_ ” Bow demands.

“I don’t know!”

The mouth of the cavern disappears into a pitch black darkness so absolute that it seems to swallow up sound as well as light, but still -- a sudden rumbling noise is _definitely_ coming from somewhere and it’s _definitely_ coming towards them.

“That… doesn’t sound good…” No shit, Bow.

Nothing is ever easy -- not on Etheria, not on this stupid ass planet, not once in Catra’s whole entire life has anything ever just been _easy_. If it ever was, she’d surely be so instantly overcome by boredom that she’d probably just die. So when what looks like a gigantic metal boar, tusks and hooves and all, comes barreling into the chamber, she isn’t even a little surprised.

Glimmer, however, is already screaming, and Bow yells, “What -- how did we _already_ set off the Heart’s defenses?”

Catra aims a wide, menacing grin at the boar, flexing her claws eagerly. “I’ve got it!” she growls. She doesn’t even remember jumping but she has already leapt onto the thing’s back.

Glimmer lets out a yelp as she rolls away from a laser blast -- turns out the boar shoots lasers out of its eyes, and Catra is again completely unsurprised. “Ugh, there’s still no _fucking_ magic here!”

Bow gasps. “Glimmer, _language_.”

“Good one, Sparkles!” Catra is attempting to gnaw on the boar’s head, her claws dug deep into its steel body as it tries to buck her off.

Adora hasn’t even had a chance to close with the thing -- she’d never been particularly light on her feet, even with magical performance enhancements -- when Bow nails it around the ankles with a bolo arrow. The boar crashes to the ground, and now Catra can dig her front and rear claws in to rend open its mechanical abdomen. A weirdly organic mess of electrical cables spills out onto the floor and she immediately starts tearing into them with her teeth.

“Uh, Catra... I think you got it,” Bow deadpans. Glimmer is whaling on it with her staff, so Catra sees no reason to stop what she’s doing.

Adora sighs. “Alright, well, this way to the Heart I guess.”

\-----

It turns out that the cavern isn’t all that deep and the Heart is only a bit further in, which is probably why they tripped the defences so quickly. They run into a few more boars along the way but Adora seems to get that Catra and Glimmer need this so she lets them handle most of the violence.

Once they reach the Heart, Catra pulls Adora down into a quick kiss. “For safety,” she says, and winks, and does her best to tune out Bow’s whispered little “aw”. Adora, 8-foot-tall and made of muscle, picks her up into a delighted hug, and Bow looks like he might die.

“Don’t say it -- we’re not cute!” Catra snaps. “Put me down, you huge idiot.”

“I love you too, Catra.” And then Adora sets about flooding the Heart with magic or whatever it is she does to overload it. The goblins look on, horrified, as it shatters into a million tiny pieces. Catra smirks. It’s going to be _hilarious_ watching them try to explain this up their terrible convoluted chain of command.

\-----

The Supreme Chancellor, obviously, was just a tiny bit pissed about the lie, but he still manages to loosen up enough to throw the universe’s most boring party.

At the end of the offensively bland “luncheon,” whatever that’s supposed to be, a well-attired goblin woman approaches their group and addresses the Queen of Bright Moon. She waves an impatient arm at her escort, who Catra forgets as soon as he opens his mouth. He announces, “Presenting Rear Admiral Kareen, commander of the 903rd Exalted Venatarian regiment, and regent of the Silvered Terrace.” She dismisses him with another wave, then sketches a short bow. 

Glimmer musters up every ounce of grace in her tiny body, which isn’t very much. “A pleasure to meet you, Admiral,” she beams. “Can I do something for you?”

“I come on behalf of my father, the Supreme Chancellor Creeta, with the sincerest hopes for a lasting and fruitful relationship between our peoples. Towards that end, we wish to speak to you regarding a mutually beneficial contract of allegiance--”

By the sun, the moons, and every last one of the ever-burning _stars,_ these people could not possibly be more boring if they tried. Catra immediately does everything she can to distract herself from this conversation. Look, over there -- some weird alien bird has flown in through an open window and it’s getting dangerously close to a bowl full of weird leaves.

A hand settles over her forearm, and it's unfamiliarity yanks her immediately back into the conversation. The Admiral is touching her, for some reason, and staring at her. “Can I help you?” she snaps. Before she can pull away there’s Adora, the full sum of her attention focused on the hand Kareen still has on Catra’s arm. Grimacing, she peels it back by the ring finger, with all the care and distaste of someone pulling at an especially sticky piece of tape, as if afraid it might leave a residue.

“My _sincerest_ apologies, Admiral. Catra’s not available.”

Catra blanches, snatching her arm away. “Wait, what--”

“Well that can’t be right. Our system has her listed as unaffiliated--”

Adora’s eyes flash furiously blue for one heartbeat, and Catra’s throat immediately runs dry. “I can assure you,” she bites out, “she’s _very_ affiliated.”

“What--To _whom?_ ”

“To _me_ ,” Adora growls.

The Admiral steps back, aghast. “Oh, my apologies!” Kareen whips out a datapad, swiping furiously. “Let me just -- the documentation needs to be updated at once,” she mutters. “Hmm, yes, that should do it -- If you’ll just sign here,” she hands the data pad to Adora. “Yes, perfect. And Catra if you’ll sign here--”

“Uhh… sure…?”

“Done!” She nods, satisfied. “The system should be updated by close of business today. Again, I really am terribly sorry for that mix up, and that the documentation wasn’t filed correctly in the first place -- you can’t be blamed, someone should have taken the time to walk you through it. Oh, don’t forget to check ‘filing jointly’ when you submit your export tax documentation!”

“Does someone wanna tell me what’s going on?” Catra grumbles.

Glimmer absolutely loses her shit laughing, falling against Bow and wiping at the tears in her eyes. She can’t get a word out past her sudden giggle fit so Bow answers, slowly, “Uh… pretty sure you guys just got married.”

“ _What?!_ ”

\-----

The Supreme Chancellor awards them a small purse for “services rendered,” over half of which goes right back to the state to pay their taxes, and that’s _with_ the married-filing-jointly break that Catra and Adora now get to claim. Still, their little group has a bit of cash to spend, and so at the end of another long day Glimmer drags them off in search of literally any kind of seating at all.

After a bit of aimless wandering they end up taking a turn down a narrow little side street between two extremely tall buildings. The rest of the city is so regimented that the vendors packed into this alley all look like surely they must be breaking the law. Carts and stalls spill out into the street as a raucous chorus of goblins bark their wares at anyone who gets too close, and the dying light of the sun is completely drowned out by the intense, neon signage that runs along the buildings on either side.

Catra is picking through what looks like a pile of desiccated insects when Glimmer lets out an absolutely ear-piercing shriek and grabs her arm.

“Catra!”

“Holy shit, Sparkles, _what_?”

Glimmer has come to a grinding halt in the middle of the alleyway, paying no attention to the goblins who shoulder past her, and pointing a shaking finger down another side street. Catra cranes her neck to catch sight of what she’s pointing at.

“Is that a…”

“A furniture store!”

“Oh thank _fuck_. Adora! Bow!” They’ve wandered a bit farther down the alley to a little clothing stall and Adora is getting ready to try on yet another belt, as if she could possibly think she needs another one. “Put that down and get back here!” she yells at them. “We found one!”

Glimmer is practically vibrating in place -- no, she’s _literally_ vibrating. Catra rolls her eyes and lets herself be dragged over to the store as Adora and Bow jog to catch up with them.

Adora sets them on the store with a single-minded strategic intensity. “Alright, we’ll take it in quadrants -- Catra, you’ve got back left, and Bow can go back right. Glimmer you’re up front with me. Meet back here when you’re ready.” They spread out to case the shop, and after a few minutes they all reconvene in the middle.

“So?” Catra asks.

“There’s not much of a selection,” Bow grumbles. Glimmer huffs her agreement.

“Well, what about this one?” Adora waves at the piece of furniture they've come together around, which appears to be the only decent sofa in the shop. It’s not much to look at, just a dusty brown rectangle with a couple of arms and a back. Catra settles down onto the thing and immediately discovers that it’s not even all that comfortable. But none of them can deny that it’s better than the nothing they have now.

Catra checks the price tag. “Sold,” she concludes with a grin, then she sprawls out over it. “Come on, Adora, let’s put all those big, shiny muscles to use.”

Adora, all smiles, is just starting to shout out her disgustingly endearing catchphrase as the shopkeep makes his way over to them. He stares, dumbfounded, at the statuesque pile of muscle now hefting one of his couches and its passenger over her head.

It’s not Adora’s most gratuitous abuse of her magical powers, but it definitely makes the top 10.

\-----

Once they finally get the couch situated -- it only looks mostly out of place on Darla’s somehow both spartan and ostentatious bridge -- Catra digs her claws into the fabric of Adora’s shirt. She’s still _huge_ and made entirely out of magic (burly, white-hot magic) so Catra doesn’t have to worry about any lasting damage. She starts pulling her down the hall towards their bedroom.

“Now,” she grins, all angles and sharp as knife, “if you’ll excuse us, it’s our wedding night.”

Tomorrow morning they’ll set Darla on her long journey back to Etheria, back to a planet full of burned bridges and struggling refugees, many of which are Catra’s fault. But for tonight--

“Adora, lock the door behind you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta be honest, I'm not a huge fan of this chapter. But I really just needed it done, so -- here it is. There should only be one more chapter in this piece, and then I think I'm gonna switch to episodic one-shots detailing the rest of their adventures around the universe.
> 
> Oh also, for anyone following along at home, yes I am stealing a lot of these names and places from the original He-Man / She-ra cartoons.
> 
> As always, you can find me on Tumblr if you want to see more behind-the-scenes crap or whatever:  
> [Sappy Butch Romance Writer](https://sappybutchromancewriter.tumblr.com/)


End file.
